Agent Apollus FBI
by Duchess Delanie
Summary: A Tennis Shoes fic. What happens when Apollus is recruited for the FBI?
1. Looking for Their Man

"Name," the man in the said darkly. "Apollus Brutus Severillus."

His partner raised his own tinted glasses, trying his best to see the file. "Severillus? What sort of name is that?"

"Beats me. But he comes highly recommended."

A cough echoed throughout the dingy office. "So we've already had him sighted."

The first man pulled out another envelope and poured its contents onto the desktop. Photographs, almost a hundred photographs, minute with detail.

The second man picked them up. "Are you saying…?"

"Look at the weapons skills. And the language. Have you ever seen anyone with so many perfect dialogue skills? I mean, I listen for that language barrier, but it's completely fluent."

The second man nodded. "I understand. Location?"

"Utah."

"Utah?"

"The people you can find in such places."

"He'll require training."

"They all do."

The second man sighed and closely examined one of the photos. "All right, then. If you're sure. But we do need the best for this particular mission. Apollus Brutus Severillus is in for a very big surprise."

_To Be Continued…_


	2. Moving In

"We have a house!" Meagan screamed at the top of her lungs. A cardboard box dropped to her side, something obviously fragile breaking inside. "We have the ultimate house!"

Apollus stepped in next to his wife and surveyed what was visible of the house. From the door way they could see pretty much all there was to see. A combination of a kitchen and a dining room. Something that might be considered a tiny sitting room. And apparently the bedroom and bathroom were upstairs.

"Not bad," he considered. Modern life… he was happy with it all. Sabrina had almost burst into tears at the sight of the place, but that was so besides the point. He had tried to tell Sabrina about Mexico. She still could not fathom Mexico.

"And to think Mom and Jim were able to make the down payment for us," Meagan continued. "I'm going to have such fun decorating." She spun in a circle, then threw her arms around his neck. "I love our house! I love our house! Everyone is going to love it when they see it!"

Sabrina and Jim had already seen it. Hence Sabrina's crying. But a house. Apollus couldn't step away from that. A house. Even back in Rome, he had never really had a house he would call his own home. This… this was wonderfully and magnificently different. So it was on the bad suburbs of Ogden. At least it wasn't in the city. And at least it wasn't Mexico.

He glanced at a wall in the sitting room. "That's where my sword will be hung."

Meagan laughed, then realized he was serious. "You're serious?"

"Yes, I am serious. Very serious."

Then she gave him the look. Oh, how he hated the look! She crossed her arms and gave the look that would send even Medusa running for cover. "We're married now, Apollus. This is not Rome! In Utah, every married woman has the right to put a picture of her wedding temple in the living room. And it is obligated a really bad frame. As for your sword… it's going in the… goodness me, we have no place to put your sword."

"In the kitchen?" he ventured.

She shrugged. "Kitchen works for me. Maybe we can use it for cooking."

Women. A sword would never be used for such… tasks. "I'll go get a box."

He stepped out to the driveway. They weren't blessed with a garage quite yet. So they just had the truck they had gotten for a wedding present. With their lives in the back of it. Most of it was Meagan's. The heavy ones were Meagan's. He grabbed a box and began to lift.

There were two men near the mailbox. Wearing black suits.

Missionaries? He smiled instinctively and waved.

They did not wave back.

No. These were not missionaries.

Apollus decided to continue bringing the box back inside.

"Mr. Severillus?" one asked.

Dang. He knew he should have had his named changed. He dropped the box. "Do I know you?"

"No. Let me introduce us. My name is Agent Thompson and this is my associate Agent Weatherston."

And with that, they fired some dart into Apollus' neck.


	3. FBI

Apollus moaned as consciousness rediscovered him. What in the world had just happened? He just had to get Meagan's box out of the truck and…

The missionaries. That's what it was. It had been those two missionaries that weren't missionaries.

Still, he had never seen anyone in a suit strike quite so fast. With… something. Modern warfare, what was the point? It was cheating and required no skill. He, a Centurion, should have been able to fight back!

Not left feeling so… not quite dead, but close.

"Good morning, Apollus."

Morning? Was it morning already?

"I don't think he gets the joke, Weatherston."

That was the name of one of them.

"Well, excuse me, but I've always wanted to say that. They say it in every movie parodizing our job, so give me a break!"

"Weatherston, Mr. Severillus has been out for not even twenty minutes."

Out? How could this have happened? Apollus' eyes flew open. It was all he could do not to scream.

He lay on an old cot in the middle of a dark and bare room—like something from home. The two missionary men, the ones who had called themselves "Agents" stood above him. One extended his hand. Barely remembering this modern American custom, Apollus shook it.

"Perhaps I should I introduce myself again. I'm Agent Thompson. Mr. Thompson. The title doesn't matter."

"Apollus.." He could hardly get his name out.

"We know who you are," said Thompson.

That meant… they knew about the cave! And the stones! Apollus blinked. They weren't… enemies, were they? Modern Gadianton robbers?

"Mr. Severillus, we are with the FBI," said the other, Mr. Weatherston.

"FBI?" It sounded sort of familiar.

"Good grief. The Federal Bureau of Investigation."

Still no clue what that was. If only he had his sword. "Is that good?" What a dumb question! Why could he no longer be fierce in this modern world?

"Some might argue," continued Weatherston.

It was enough for Apollus. He jumped to his feet and flung the man against the wall before Weatherston could react.

"We're good," Weatherston muttered. "We're good!"

Thompson began a slow applause. "Very good, Mr. Severillus. We have heard about your fighting skills, about your proficiencies with exotic weapons. We admire it, and we think it should be used… for good."

Apollus released Weatherston. "Exactly what are you getting at? I just got married, my wife and I are trying to move into our new home…"

Thompson nodded. "I understand completely. New wife, new life, young as you are. We just thought you might need some financial assistance."

They were getting enough of that from Jim, Garth, Sabrina, and Jenny. Not to mention the twenty Steffanie had slipped him.

"Mr. Severillus, do you have a job right now?"

"My… my father-in-law has given me a position in his company. Running errands."

"And I'm sure it pays wonderfully," Weatherston said, still somewhat gasping. "But this job will give you plenty of what you just did to me!"

Apollus' heart skipped a beat. Fighting. The life of a centurion. He had almost thought that was gone. "A job?"

Thompson smiled. "We want you to work with us. As an agent for the United States of America. We know much about you, and we need your help on a special assignment."

This could be bad. Apollus had dealt with enough evil so far in his life. But these men… he said a quick prayer. Nothing seemed harmful. "What kind of assignment?"

Meagan hadn't even noticed he had left. She was inside, putting away the kitchen stuff, yacking on the phone with Melody. "Hon, did you bring that box?"

The box was still in the driveway. "Better?" He kissed her. "Meagan, I have a career with the FBI."


	4. The Asp

Meagan stared at her husband. He was joking, right? Apollus was certainly known to joke in his own right; there was nothing wrong with that. Was there? But he looked so happy, so happy to be there, bouncing off the cheap rug they had picked up at Deseret Industries. "Babe, you do know what the FBI is?"

"Of course." He closed his eyes, ranking through his memory. "The Federal Bureau of Investigation."

Yes, well, he could have picked that up anywhere. Meagan took a deep breath. "All right, rewind. Rewind. You say you have a job with the FBI."

"Yes. That's where I was."

"I thought you were getting the box out of the trunk! You know, the one I asked you to get out."

He glanced back at the box. Some cat was now staring at it. "Oh, yes. I must get the box." He turned.

Meagan followed him. "Please tell me you are joking. You cannot have a job with the FBI. You are… you are…"

"Not from this time period." He hefted the box up and strolled back into the house, Meagan still at his heels. "I think that's why. I thought it over. I have weapons training, this gift of tongues… why not?"

"How did they find out about you?"

He shrugged. "Well, Jim said once that the FBI knows all."

Jim. Oy. How were they going to explain this to Jim? To everyone?

Wait a second. She wasn't falling along with this, was she? "Do you have any proof?"

Then, to her horror, he nodded and whipped out the wallet Mary had bought for him. An ID. FBI ID.

"I have to be careful showing it off," he explained.

Meagan wanted to faint. It was real. "You can't do this! We were just married! You can't do this to me!"

He sighed and put his arms around her. "I'm sorry! It won't take away from us, I promise. I still love you, and you know I always will. I just… I just want a job."

"You could have any job."

"I want a job I'm comfortable with."

A job he was comfortable with.

He continued. "I'm supposed to track down this fellow. A thief and a murderer. There seems to be know real identity to him. But his name. They call him the Asp."

It didn't sound safe. "Apollus."

He put his hand under her chin. "I'll be fine! We've been through so much worse. And I'm sure the family…

"No." Meagan shook her head. "We can't tell the family. No way."


	5. Over

Though Agents Thompson and Weatherston had promised some real practice, Apollus felt that it would be best to get some of their own practice in. And so they met, in the middle of Harmon's grocery store. Meagan had insisted on dark sunglasses. The cereal aisle was to their right, the ice cream somewhere else. Apollus liked ice cream. Meagan said they could buy some as they left.

But now... it was practice time.

Apollus pulled out his walkie-talkie and ducked behind a large pyramid built entirely out of boxes of Lucky Charms. "Vixen, this is Rome. Come in Vixen."

The radio burst with static. "This is Vixen. Where are you? Over."

Over? "We're finished already?"

"No, babe, you're supposed to say 'over' when you finish your line. Over."

Oh. That made sense. He thought. "Okay, Vixen, where are you? Over."

"I'm talking to some lady that thinks I'm working here. Do you know where the Oriental section is?"

"Meagan, you didn't say 'over'. Over."

"You're not supposed to use my name! Over!"

Apollus grinned. This was kind of fun.

Meagan's voice popped once more over the radio. "Now where is the Oriental section so I can get rid of this lady? Over."

Apollus had no idea. He never ate Oriental food. "I don't know!"

"You forgot to say 'over'!"

"So did you!"

"Oh, who cares?"

Apollus saw Meagan appear, still wearing her glasses, followed by a jabbering lady in a shopping cart. She pointed in a random direction, and the lady left. Then Meagan grinned at Apollus.

Apollus waved.

Then, before he could do anything, a man walked by, grabbed her, and pulled her into the frozen food section.

The Asp!

Apollus began to run, something Harmon's did not normally allow for. He pushed his way past a table full of cheap candy bars, barreled into a man with a shopping cart, and slid into the aisle where Meagan had disappeared.

And then there was giggling. It was Harry.

"You should have seen your face!" Harry shouted, still pressing Meagan against the floor. "That was hilarious!"

Meagan, giggling, pushed her stepbrother away. "Indeed. Cute, way cute."

Apollus was not happy. "That scared me! I thought–" He shut his mouth. He couldn't discuss his new job.

Harry shook his head. "Oh, boy. I'll have to tell Mary. She's around here somewhere. She was just behind me..." His voice trailed off.

There was a shopping cart holding Mary's purse. But there was no sign of Mary.

Mary never left her purse.


	6. Missing Mary

_So... four years? How y'all doing?_

* * *

Harry picked up Mary's purse and held it thoughtfully. "She could be going after cereal," he said slowly. "We needed cereal. I actually think that's the reason we're here."

"You're not sure why you're here at the store?" Meagan asked. Men. They were all alike. "So you let Mary bring you to the store but you don't know why you're here?"

"Shopping?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, go check the cereal aisle, dummy. Tell her she forgot her purse where any modern day scoundrel could pick it up." But Mary was completely freakish about her purse and everything else that belonged to her. She took a deep breath. Okay. Try not to panic. Maybe Mary was getting less testy about everything. Yes, she was getting cereal.

Harry nodded blankly and turned the corner.

Apollus gave a nervous laugh. Meagan followed. "We're getting a little caught up in all of this, aren't we?" she asked.

He nodded. "I thought we came here for fun. A gag. Making fun of my job."

"That's right. Making fun of your job. As an agent of the American government." Wow. This was still completely surreal. "I'm going to go check elsewhere for Mary."

Because the shopping cart was still shopperless.

Meagan ran along the side of the store, eyes scanning the passing aisles. No Middle Eastern beauty named Mary. No one.

Gah! Why was she listening to everything Apollus said? This entire thing was stupid. So incredibly stupid and unbelievable and she had no idea why she freaking out about this. She fell against a tray of Hostess snacks and took a deep breath.

"Meagan?" It was Harry.

She looked up at him, hoping she didn't look as scared as she felt.

"I checked her cell phone. No answer."

Now that was definitely not like Mary.

"Meagan, what is going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know you, Meagan. You're panicking. I'm about to rip open illegally a package of brown paper bags for your hyperventilation. You and Apollus both. Raving lunatics. What's going on?"

FBI, she wanted to say. My idiot centurion of a husband is in the FBI and we thought it would be hilarious to come here and play with walkie-talkies. We're complete losers.

"I'm pregnant?" she suggested.

"What?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not pregnant. Try her phone again. I just… I need to talk to Apollus. I'll go check the bathroom."

The bathroom would be perfect if she had to throw up from nerves.

She wandered towards the bathroom, unbalanced between total fear and the thought of how stupid this entire thing was. She could only imagine what she looked like on the security tapes.

She pushed open the bathroom door, and something was pressed over her face.


	7. A Little Fire Never Hurt a Roman

Meagan was not sure how much time had passed when she grudgingly opened her eyes. Though her body was slack with fatigue she felt no actual pain. Just the cold horror of knowing that she had actually been kidnapped. Or something. Now when was the last time that had actually happened? Well, counting kidnapped occurrences should be the last thing on her mind. The floor on which she lay was cold cement and the room was dark. Everything smelled faintly of Windex.

"Are you okay, Meagan? Wow, I had no idea that chemical was so powerful. I didn't expect you to go unconscious just like that."

A flashlight blasted into Meagan's eyes.

"Good grief, Mary!" Meagan sat up quickly, blocking her eyes with one hand. "Are you trying to blind me? And where are we?"

The light of the flashlight bounced back to Mary. "Oh, here."

"Obviously. Where are we? And… Did just you admit to kidnapping me?"

"With chloroform," Mary said proudly. "I've always wanted to use it."

Meagan laughed dryly. "You? The little angel? You thought you could get away with using chloroform? On me?"

"I just did, Meagan. But you're all right? Because you seem all right but I wasn't really sure how much to use…"

Meagan nodded. "I'm fine… I just can't get over the thought of you using chloroform! Why would you do that?" The first question in a huge tumbleweed of sought knowledge blowing through the confused desert landscape that was her now her mind. Always with the why. She was never going to recover from being that teenaged brat she had been.

"Oh. Because." Mary did not sound the least bothered by what she had just done. "These really nice gentlemen came up to me in the parking lot. I at first thought they were missionaries, but it turns out they work for the government. They needed me to kidnap you in order to test Apollus. Did you know that Apollus worked for the FBI?"

Oh boy. So much for government secrets. "Yes. He just started."

"How exciting! And what a great career for him! He'll do a wonderful job, I'm sure of it."

"Yeah, I'm sure he will. So again, where are we?"

"Some basement." For the first time Mary's voice seemed less than confidant.'

"Mary, what are you not telling me? What basement? Whose basement?"

"Just… some basement. Under an abandoned building."

"Well, that just sounds like all kinds of foreboding." Why had she decided she needed to go grocery shopping? Why? And why did Mary have to be so… Mary? "What is going on? How are we being used to test my husband?"

Mary cleared her throat. "Well… I guess there is some sort of bomb or prepared fire or something… I'm still learning all these modern weapons."

"What?"

"The nice government men said it would be perfectly safe and nothing would happen to us. It's just… a test."

"What kind of stupid test is this? Does Harry know?"

"No, he was fiddling with his phone while I was talking to them."

Meagan wanted to faint back to the floor. But she had to be calm. She had been in countless worse situations before. "So… they had you kidnap me?"

There was a long time before Mary spoke again. This time, her voice was dead serious. "Meagan, you are treating me like I'm some naïve idiot. Again. They explained everything."

Now she had just offended Mary. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little surprised by all of this."

"So am I, but I think it's kind of fun. Now, they gave me the bottle and the rag to make you go unconscious. Then I dragged you out to a truck out back. Which I then drove here. They were waiting, the agents, I mean. They put us in the basement and gave me a clock." Blue digital numbers lit the darkness, revealing a full eight minutes left until something went down.

"We have eight minutes to live before my idiot husband rescues us?"

"We're not locked in here, Meagan. The door is over there. It's actually open.

"And if the raging fire blocks us?"

Mary laughed hard for a surprisingly long time. "That's… that's the fun part."

"A raging fire?"

"The building across the street is set to blow up."

* * *

"You can't find them, can you?"

Apollus turned to see Agent Weatherston standing right behind him in the grocery store parking lot. He had gone out there to see if Mary had perhaps gone to her car. Maybe she had forgotten her lipstick or whatever other make-up Mary cared about.

"Them?" he echoed.

"Your sister-in-law and your wife."

His heart skipped a beat. "Meagan? She's gone?"

"Oh, they're both in the same place. Here." Agent Weatherston handed him a card. A simple card, just one of those little ones for notes that all the kids uses for school. "This is an address."

"You kidnapped them?" Suddenly the thrill of the new job was gone, replaced by the rage that was automatically made to build up inside of him. "Why would you do that?"

"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Severillus. They're both fine. And I'm sure they'll stay that way. Assuming you hurry."

"I hate you."

"Just don't attack me again." Agent Weatherston pulled out a gun. "I got this this time. And I'm a quick draw."

This was insane, Apollus thought. "All right. I'll go."

"You had better be quick."

Except there was a problem. Meagan had the car keys.

Apollus released a favorite ancient Roman curse of his and took off at a run.

He wound up taking a bus. A bus, of all things. Apollus had never liked them. They were big and slow and crowded and ugly. It was like driving people around in a cart. But he took one and sat down next to a nice old lady who unfortunately smelled of cats. He all but jumped to his feet to get away from her when the bus finally pulled up to his stop. How much time had he wasted on the darn buss? Was Meagan okay?

He would take on the entire Federal Bureau of Investigation plus whoever was in the White House if she had so much as a scratch.

He darted from the bus stop's corner through a peaceful looking neighborhood. It should have made him feel better with its kid running through sprinklers and fathers barbecuing. Except Apollus was a programmed warrior and really couldn't care less about such things. He pulled out the address card again. He was going the right way. Just had to find the right street.

And, as often happened, he turned a corner and found absolutely nothing. Why did Utah have to exist that way? Empty lots of dust and random old buildings in the centers of perfectly nice areas.

And yet… he could not help but be strengthened by the site. It just screamed of adventure.

It was also, according to the directions, the right place.

A chain-link fence lined two sides of the lot, a dilapidated paved road running through the center before stopping at one chain-link fence where a "Dead End" sign declared the obvious. Three buildings inhabited the lot. One seemed to be an abandoned beauty shop, the next something that looked like a box, and the other a red brick building claiming to be a cannery. He shuddered. He hated it when all the women in the family made him volunteer at the church cannery.

But it had the right address. He cursed again. He didn't want to go into a cannery.

He did want Meagan back.

The front door was locked. There was no time to look at the back door, so he stepped back aways and thought of all the training he had ever learned from his father. Then he ran forward and kicked.

Yes. He still had it. The door fell away in a crash of dust and splinters.

Taking a deep breath, he dove inside.

It looked like… a cannery. There were a few giant vats and walls lined with empty jars. He hated the site.

"Meagan?" he called. "It's Apollus!"

No answer.

"Meagan!" he tried again. "Mary!"

There had to be a basement somewhere. Actually, there was, and the staircase to prove it.

He ran down and threw open the next door.

Immediately a fist punched into his side. Apollus gasped for air, but his body was ready and his hands of their own accord flew to the fist. It took a moment, but then they had the grip and moved up to the arm. The attacker was fighting, but Apollus was strong. He found himself trapped in a grapple, but one he was sure he could win. His arms pushed down, and he forced the attacker to the floor.

The attacker was not yet done. He responded with a kick. Apollus took it, then sunk down to the attack. He could make nothing of his face in the darkness.

"Where's my wife?" he demanded.

The man laughed. A pained laugh, but a laugh just the same.

Apollus did not like to be laughed at. He punched the man in the jaw.

That ended the laughing.

He stood up, panting. "Anyone else?" He wished he could see.

Then he remembered he was in modern-day America. He felt on the wall for a switch, hoping there was some electricity still flowing through the dump. He found the switch, flipped it, then waited as the light buzzed before finally agreeing to turn on.

The room was empty.

Empty, except for another note card on the floor.

"Try the beauty shop."

A third curse.

The light stopped flickering then and settled on a glow.

Outside, Apollus heard an explosion. A definite explosion.

He dashed back upstairs, heart pounding. No, no, no. This could not be happening.

But the beauty shop was on fire. He could see the flames through the cannery window before he was even out what remained of the doorway.

Meagan and Mary were in there.

A little fire never hurt a Roman centurion.

He knocked open the door of the beauty shop, screaming Meagan's name the entire time.

"Apollus!"

The voice came from outside. It couldn't be.

"Meagan!" He ran back out.

She was standing a safe way from the burning building with a distinct mix of laughter and fear on her face, which was at least pale with the latter.

"Meagan," he whispered, throwing his arms around her.

"You ran in there! For me! I mean, you've been in scrapes so much worse, but wow. That was so sexy!"

"What happened? How did you escape?"

"We were over there," she said, pushing away from him and pointing to the drab white box building. "Just sitting in the basement. I'm sorry, I didn't think they were going to force you into a burning building."

Realization hit him. "What? I was tricked? Set up?"

"Training. If it makes you feel any better, I was tricked, too."

"But you passed. You took out one of the best brawlers in the system and braved a burning building," Mary said.

Apollus had almost forgotten he was supposed to rescue Mary as well. "So you all knew?"

"Oh, I helped set it up," replied Mary. "I've been working with the FBI for about a year now. It's a lot of fun."


End file.
